old stories

8/3/2019 Old Stories

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How Much Does A Prayer Weigh?

How much does a prayer weigh? The only man Iever knew who tried to weigh one still doesn't

know.

He owned a little grocery store on the west side.The First World War had just ended, and it was

the week before Christmas. A tired-lookingwoman came into the store and asked him for

enough food to make a Christmas dinner for herchildren. The grocer asked her how much she could afford to spend.

"My husband was killed in the war," she said, "and I have nothing tooffer but a little prayer."

This grocer confesses that he was not very sentimental in those days.A grocery store could not be run like a bread line.

So he said, "Write it on a paper," and turned about his business.

To his surprise, the women plucked a piece of paper out of her bosomand handed it to him over the counter and said, "I did that during the

night watching over my sick baby."

The grocer took the paper before he could recover his surprise, andthen regretted having done so! For what would he do with it; what could

he say?

Then an idea suddenly came to him. He placed the paper, without evenreading the prayer upon it, on the weight side of his old-fashioned

scales. Picking up a loaf of bread nearby, he said, "We shall see howmuch this food is worth."

To his astonishment the scale would not go down when he laid the loafon the other side. To his confusion and embarrassment, it would not go

down though he kept on adding more food, anything he could lay hishands on quickly, for people were watching him.

He tried to be gruff and he was making a bad job of it. His face got redand he felt flustered. So finally he said, "Well, that's all the scales willhold anyway. Here's a bag. You'll have to put it in yourself. I'm busy."

With what sounded like a gasp or a little sob, she took the bag andstarted packing the food, wiping her eyes on her sleeves every time her


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arm was free to do so. He tried not to look,but he could not help seeing that he hadgiven her a pretty big bag and that it was

not full when she had finished. So withoutsaying anything, he tossed down the

counter to her several expensive items.Trying not to notice, he saw a timid smileof grateful understanding glistening in her

eyes.

When the woman was gone, he went to look at the scales, scratchinghis head and shaking the scales in puzzlement. Then he found the solu-tion. When the paper had been placed on it, the scales had been bro-

ken.

That grocer is an old man now. His hair is white. But he has never for-gotten the incident. He never saw the woman again. And, come to thinkof it, he had never seen her before either. Yet, for the rest of his life, he

remembered her better than any other customer he ever had.

And he knew it had not been just her imagination, for he still had theslip of paper upon which the woman's prayer had been written, "Please,

Lord, give us this day our daily bread."

Used by permission. Taken from the book Shelter in the Storm. Avail-able from Harvestime Books, Altamont,TN 37301.


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began to sing. He had a remarkable voice, clear and tender; it would force the

tears to your eyes. Every head in the ward was turned to listen. That delightedJem. "I can sing for them occasionally," he said, "if the doctors will allow it."

So, whenever it was possible, Jem's sweet voice was heard, sometimes in a

humorous song, sometimes in a hymn. I used to think he was at heaven's gate

when he sang those hymns. But one morning his voice was gone, and before

night everyone in the ward knew he was dying. The patients were silent,

many of them crying, for they all loved the boy. He died at sundown, sitting

up in bed, leaning against my shoulder. He glanced around the ward, and they

nodded, and smiled.

"Give them," he whispered, then stopped, remembering, poor child, that hehad nothing to give. Then he said, suddenly, aloud, his eyes brightening,

"Give them my loveJem Bruce's love."

Taken from The Youth's Instructor, January 29, 1903.


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LEFT TO DIE-FROM W.A.SPICER

The Somme River rises above St. Quentin, near the Belgian

border, in northern France, and flows into the English chan-

nel. In what was once a rich farming area near the river, the

astounding scene took place.

Before the war , this man was an irreligious man. He had

attended some evangelistic meetings once but did not be-

come a Christian. After entering the war he was shipped to

France. As he was crossing an open field, shrapnel struck

him down. His fellow soldiers left him as they deemed him

dead.

I could hear the battle, he related, And the humming of

bullets was all around me. I saw that I was bleeding andhoped that a corpsman would find me. But night came without one person

coming near by the bit of a hollow where I fell.

The next morning I was very weak from loss of blood and from hunger. I

had a little food in my knapsack but was unable to turn over or to unbuckle

my straps to get it. I realized that I was lying in my own blood. I was help-

less and giving myself up to die.

Five days later, the medical corpsmen were out in the field, searching for

any one who could possibly still have life in

him. I saw them come closer and closer. Itried to call to them, but they were too far

away to hear my weak voice.

Closer and closer they came. Finally after

what seemed like an eternity, one of them

stopped, cupped his hand to his ear and heard

my plea for help. After administering first aid,

he called to a companion to get a stretcher.

When the two of them started to take me off, I

asked them to look around and see if theycould see what had saved my life. Puzzled

and thinking I was delirious, they started on with their task.

Wait, I cried, at least look at the evidence of what has happened . After

seeing those ten definite objects of proof that I had miraculously been pre-

served from starvation, we made our way to the mobile surgical hospital.

In the portable hospital tent, I had time to reflect back on the astounding

way in which that God I had rejected in those evangelistic meetings had not

rejected me . I gave my heart to Him and vowed to go back home, look up

the people who held the meetings, and allow them to help me become a realbonafied Christian.


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My testimony of Gods stunning battlefield

protection was confirmed by the two medics

so that no one would miss out on the power

of it through doubt or unbelief.

You see, when I could not turn over or un-

buckle my strap with my one free arm sothat I could eat the meager provisions of

my K-rations, the Lord interceded.

Lying there the morning after my being

wounded, I

first thought I was having an hallucination,

because standing near the very tip of my

five fingers of my one free hand was a

real, live hen!

What's more, the hen laid an egg rightthen and there!

I broke the egg, cupping most of its con-

tents in one half of the shell, and swal-

lowed it. It was not much, but it was

enough to keep me alive until the next day.

Whats even more wonderful is the fact that this same hen that I saw walk

slowly away after laying that first egg came back to almost the very same

spot the next day to lay another egg.

The hen came from a nearby farm house, an orderly told me later. But it

came five days in a row. And the corpsmen saw the ten halves of the five

eggs broken by my body!

"The Burning Hut"

The only survivor of a shipwreck was washed up on a small, uninhabited

island. He prayed feverishly for God to rescue him, and every day he

scanned the horizon for help, but none seemed forthcoming. Exhausted, he

eventually managed to build a little hut out of driftwood to protect him

from the elements and to store his few possessions.

But then one day, after scavenging for food, he arrived home to find his

little hut in flames, the smoke rolling up to the sky. The worst had hap-

pened ... everything was lost! He was stung with grief and anger. "God,

how could you do this to me?" he cried.

Early the next day, however, he was awakened by the sound of a ship that

was approaching the island. It had come to rescue him. "How did you know

I was here?" asked the weary man of his rescuers. "We saw your smoke

signal!" they replied.

~ Author Unknown ~


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and carried off her

rudder. When she be-

gan sinking the crew

launched the only

longboat ant the rest

kept afloat clinging to

wreckage.

For eighteen hours

they drifted in the cold

sea, fighting sharks;

then along came the

packetJupiterand

again they were res-

cued. For a forth time

it was found not a single life had been lost!

Two days later theJupiterhit a reef and sank. But the passenger vessel City of

Leeds was close at hand to take them all on board and transfer them safely to

Sydney. Five ships had been lost and the crew of theMermaidhad been ship-

wrecked five times- yet no-one was lost.

Now the most amazing part of our story- On the passenger ship, City of Leeds

was an elderly English woman named Sarah Richley who was critically ill.

She had earlier told passengers that she was going to Australia in hopes of

finding her son, who had run away fifteen years before and joined the navy.

She had never heard from him and Navy officials said he had served his term

and left.

Delirious she called constantly for her son and the doctor decided to ease her

dying moments by getting a sailor to pretend he was her son. He looked around

for a young man the approximate age and description of Peter Richely and

chose one of the crew of theMermaid.

The seaman agreed to help the doctor and as they walked to her cabin the doc-

tor said, Now this is how we will do it, the womans name is Sarah Richley

and shes from Yorkshire, youre to He stopped and stared- the seamans

face had turned white and he had braced himself against the wall. Whatswrong with you? the doctor asked.

Tears poured down the mans cheeks as he stammered, You see, I am Peter

Richley! Please take me to my mother!

Happiness is great medicine. Sarah Richley recovered and lived in a house her

son built for her for nearly twenty years.

Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they

not in thy book? Psa.56.8


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When the Angels Steered a Ship-

From-Was God the Skipper?-

Reported by Henry Galus- in Fate magazine

April-May 1952

In June 1887, the Canton left New Bedford,

Mass., for the whaling grounds of the south At-

lantic. After several whales had been killed and

rendered, the ship sailed north to the island of St.

Helena to unload the barrels of sperm oil and

take on water.

Soon after the Canton left the island early in

September to return to the grounds, the ship as-

sumed a course of her own in defiance of the helm and thewind. Time and again Captain Howland pulled the vessel back

on the determined course, but each time she swung away with a

weird will to proceed in her own direction, her sails flapping in

protest.

Captain Howland was a God fearing man. With his eyes on the

sky, he said, this is a good ship and theres no reason why she

shouldnt respond to the wheel. It must be the hand of Provi-

dence. Let her go the way she will. May God take us to where

He wants us to go!

During the next two days the Yankee captain spent most of his time standing

silently at the rail, giving his orders gently. On the third day First Mate Antone

Cruz noticed a number of dots on the surface ahead. When the Canton drew

closer, the dots became small boats, scattered, loaded with gaunt human beings

waving their hands and shouting hoarsely .

Captain Howland soon learned that he has rescued survivors of the British

traderMonarch. The trader with over two hundred cases of dynamite in her

hold had caught fire seven hundred miles off the Cape of Good Hope. The

flames quickly spread beyond control and the vessel was abandoned. Sufferingfrom hunger and thirst, the passengers and crew had drifted about one hundred

and fifty miles.

Thank God for your rescue, the captain told the survivors. He was the skip-

per that brought us to you. Thank Him in humble prayer.

Notes- The survivors were taken to the Cape of Good Hope. Later the British

Government awarded Captain Howland a solid silver teapot, and a gold medal.

It was the only time during her long career that the Canton failed to be respon-

sive to her wheel and wind. She was a 227-tonner with an excellent record forsea worthiness. William H. Tripp, whaling museum curator, in a paper titled

Brief History of theBark Canton, says the ship was blunt of bow and old-


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CAN AND COULDItll be moonlight tonight, said a schoolboy; wont you join our skating

party?

No, replied Can; you know there wasnt a boy in my class that had his arith-

metic lesson today, and the teacher gave it to us again. I can master it, and Iwill. That lesson must not beat me twice. I mean to make sure of it, so youll

have to excuse me from joining your party.

Shall I not help you? asked his elder sister.

Let me try it first, replied Can; I feel like going at it with a will; for I' ve

heard that where there' s a will, there' s a way. He did not stop until every exam-

ple was worked out.

If I only could learn this horrid lesson! exclaimed his classmate, Could, who

made a few random figures on his slate, and then began to draw dogs heads.

Is that the way you study your lesson?asked his mother reprovingly.

If I only could get it, replied the boy, fretfully, I should be glad to work at it

with all my might, but its too hard and dry for anybody.

fashioned. (she was built in 1835 at Baltimore), but adds that she was

a good sailor on the wind and was always spoken of as a dry ship.

Captain Howland was a seafarer since the age of sixteen and had sailed

throughout the world. Records reveal he was an expert navagator of un-

blemished reputation. He died in 1923 at the age of seventy.


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Surely you could learn some of it, if you

would only try, said his mother, and asthis could not be gainsaid, Could looked

at his book again. But the next moment

he jumped from his chair, and ran to the

window.

Oh, this splendid moonlight! he ex-

claimed. Its really too bad to lose that

skating. I think Ill go.

But your lessons are not prepared, said

his mother.

I know that. Answered Could; but

when I come back, there will be time

enough for them.

Off he went, and the next day, in the

class, he drawled: I would have learned

the lesson if I could.

Can and Could both had to drive cows to

pasture and to hoe in the garden. Can' s

cows were regularly cropping grass on

the hillside long before Could was out ofbed. Can easily kept ahead of the weeds

by hoeing before they got much start.

Could waited until there was some real

need of hoeing, to keep the weeds down,

but the weeds had such a start then that

they soon got ahead of him, and ahead of

the crops, too, which were hardly worth

gathering, although Cans garden yielded

bountifully.If I could have had such a garden as

that, said Could, I should have been

glad to hoe up every weed; but my

garden was so poor that it didnt

make much difference whether Ihoed or not.

If I could only be a great man, how

much I would do to reform men!

exclaimed Could. Sometime I

mean to do something on a large

scale in this world.

Can was never heard to express

such noble sentiments; but he at-

tended diligently to business, and,

as he prospered, employed many

men at fair wages, thus enabling

them to support their families in

comfort.

Can, by diligence and economy,

became prosperous and happy;

Could, by indolence and procrasti-

nation, became discontented and

unhappy. Will you be Can or

Could?

Taken from The Youths Instruc-

tor, April 27, 1899.

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